


The Song of the Blue Rose

by wefewwehappyfew



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Because GRRM doesn't, F/M, Giving my own spin on the song, TW for mentions of death and miscarriages in chapter one, also giving the blue rose an actual name, and this story gives me such feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 02:50:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18769675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wefewwehappyfew/pseuds/wefewwehappyfew
Summary: The story of Maege Stark, daughter of Lord Brandon of Winterfell, and her love for the wildling Bael the Bard.





	The Song of the Blue Rose

**Chapter one: In the Bleak Midwinter**

Her father had closed the crypts.

No one was to set foot in them. No one was to remind him that his wife and sons had died. Not even Maege.

She couldn't say a thing.

She had learnt, with time and experience, that one just simply couldn't deal with her father upfront.

One had to nod, say that this was the best decision, and then act when he wasn't looking.

Maege knew that nothing and no one was going to stop her from seeing her mother, Lady Sansa, and her brothers.

The oldest one, Ned, had died in a riding accident eight years ago. He had not even reached his tenth name day.

That was why Maege's parents, the Lord and Lady and Winterfell, had tried for another son, even if just one survived long enough. The other babes didn't even reach birth.

The one to survive was the last child her mother gave birth to. Another boy, Brandon, like his Lord Father.

The birth took a toll on both mother and son. Lady Sansa only lasted two days.

The last thing Maege remembered of her mother was how could her hands felt. How cold she felt as she gave her the last kiss on the cheek.

"Do not fret, my sweet. I just need to go and take care of your siblings."

Maege did not blame her mother when she died. Even if it hurt. Even if she felt so alone she believed she would drown in that loneliness.

She didn't have little Brandon for long, either. A week later he joined Ned, their mother, and the rest of the children that never were.

He would have celebrated his seventh name day today.

Maege knew that she couldn't bring anything, lest her father decided to check on the crypts. But she would bring Bran a story, of the gift that would be waiting for him.

She sat in front of their grave. Ned's was nearby, so it did, indeed, feel like a family reunion.

"Hello, Mother. Hello, Ned. Hello, little one."

The light flickered over the faces of the statues. Even if they were made of stone, they offered Maege a softness and kindness that she could not find in her Lord Father, who had grown a harsh man after all the losses.

But she didn't want to think about her father at that moment. Even among the dead, she had cause for joy.

"I know it's your seven name day, Bran, and I am sure you are all celebrating now." She smiled gently. "There's a gift waiting for you when Mother takes you to bed. Do you want to know what is it?"

She stopped for a moment, as if giving time for a reply, and then continued.

"It is a toy horse!" She replied. "Like the one you liked so much to hold while you were here."

Maege felt a little pang in her heart when she said that. She missed them and felt alone. That was why she was there. Because, unlike her father, Maege knew that there was no true harm in coming to see them. That life could go by, and they could still be remembered.

Still, she noticed that her cheeks were wet with tears. She did her best to dry them and stood up.

"I hope you like it, little one." She stood up. "And that you are having a good name day. I am sure that Mother..."

But she stopped for a moment as she realised something.

She was not alone.

There was someone else with her in the crypt. Not close, but she could feel it.

It was not her father. Her father would have spoken already, and wouldn't have come here on his own.

And it wasn't any of the servants either. Maege knew the sounds of their steps.

No, these steps were stealthy.

As if their owner had even less of a reason to be in the crypts than Maege herself.

(At least, regarding her father's judgement.)

She didn't even wonder if it was risky to turn and face the stranger before she actually did it.

A foolish decision, really. Because he was observing her.

A wildling.

What was a wildling doing inside the crypts of Winterfell?

It made no sense... Unless...

She tried to run for the passage, but he was faster.

He caught her, and even if she fought, he didn't seem to release her, not even after she gave up, which took a while. But he bore the brunt of her blows surprisingly well.

"I do not want to harm you." He spoke, and his voice surprised her. It was deep, but there was something melodious to it.

And it did not carry the threatening tone she imagined it might.

When Maege finally managed to even her breath, she turned her head to look at him.

From what she could gather in the dark, even with his unkempt wildling looks, he was handsome.

Enough to make her blush, despite her own fear and better judgement.

"And what do you want to do?" She managed to ask him.

Maege could have sworn she saw him smirking before he whispered to her ear.

"You'll see soon."

With that, he released her and disappeared in the darkness.

Even if a part of her wanted to follow him and understand what he was up to, Maege understood that it was due time to get back to her chambers, or else she might not even get enough sleep, and her secret might be discovered by her father.

What Maege had to admit, as she slid back into her chambers, and undressed before getting in her bed, was that she did not expect to be carrying yet another secret now.

She only hoped she had made the right choice in not revealing it, and allowing this stranger to live.

**Author's Note:**

> \- So, yes this kind of addresses one of my pet peeves with the original story, aka, no one ever looking in the crypts in the 9+months Bael and Brandon's daughter spent there. (I know it is a legend and legends get distorted but really, it bugged moi)  
> \- Also yes, a name and a backstory of sorts for her. Because of reasons, and because tying her further to Winterfell so her choice of staying after the baby is even more clear.


End file.
